


Can't See the Forest for the Trees

by fencer_x



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 12:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13570479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencer_x/pseuds/fencer_x
Summary: Rin has been trying every trick in the book (short of actually coming out and say it) to express his feelings to Haru--but nothing seems to be getting through to him, and time is steadily ticking down.





	Can't See the Forest for the Trees

**Author's Note:**

> Happy HRH Christmas Exchange, readbooksfindmagic123! Hope this is a suitable fill for your request :D

Nanase Haruka was, without question, the most oblivious little shit Rin had ever had the displeasure of being in love with. 

Granted, Rin was no catch himself: he was too chicken to actually come out and confess his feelings—who even _did_ that after elementary school? Just walked up to someone and poured their heart out, hoping not to get eviscerated in response? It sounded terrifying, too high a risk for a low likelihood of any reward, and Rin could be daring and brave on occasion, but not when it came to his heart. That, he guarded like a starving mutt with his favorite bone; better to share it with none than risk it being broken.

But Haru...Haru made him want to take stupid risks and court danger, made him want to strive for something better than what he had and refuse to settle. Haru made Olympic gold seem like more than just a dream but a _goal_ ; he made the fantasy of the relay a reality, a truth far greater than Rin could have ever imagined.

So even though he could be a sassy jerk, even though he made you want to punch a wall on occasion, even though he didn't deserve Rin half the time because of what a stubborn jackass he could be—Rin still wanted him. Desperately, hopelessly, achingly wanted to be a part of his life in more ways than he'd already been granted.

And that presented a problem, because Rin couldn't summon the courage to just confront him about it, shove his feelings in Haru's face and let the chips fall as they may, he had to go about it far more _subtly_ than most _._ And _Haru_...well, Haru was Haru. Haru had to have everything spelled out in fifty-point font, or had to have Makoto interpret what most everyone else could easily infer. Haru communicated through swimming, through form, so unless Rin choreographed a synchronized swimming routine to suggest he might have feelings beyond the fast friendship he and the others shared with Haru...it wasn't going to get across.

This alone would be difficult enough to deal with had Rin not _also_ had another factor weighing on him now: a deadline. Come spring, he'd be boarding a plane bound for Sydney, and Haru would be heading to Tokyo with Makoto, and there'd be thousands of kilometers between them that texting and—dare he hope—Skyping couldn't possibly bridge. 

He _couldn't_ go to Sydney like this. It'd been hell the first time around, when he hadn't realized what it was he felt for Haru, too young by far and blinded by his shiny new dream to care why his stomach did flip-flops when he caught sight of Haru's streamline or screamed his name as he launched overhead at the exchange. The uncertainty with what Haru was to him combined with the crushing weight of failure had nearly ruined him. He _couldn't_ let that happen again.

One way or another, he _had_ to get through to Haru that this, these feelings, weren't just simple friendship and rivalry, that they were more massive, more unwieldy than anything Rin had struggled with before. They weren't something to be taken lightly, they weren't just the idle daydreams of a self-professed romantic; they were real and important, and Haru needed to know this. Before they were separated again, for hopefully the final time. He needed to leave with a clear head and heart this time, if he wanted to take full advantage of the environment and trainers, and while part of him nagged that this would be a selfish act of the most absurd degree, burdening Haru with this knowledge before darting off into the sunset, he still needed Haru to know what it was that drove him. Haru would _want_ to know, even if it was annoying.

Or at least that was how Rin justified it to himself.

But knowing what he needed to do and actually _managing to do it_ were two very different things, Rin was quickly discovering, and if there was one person you didn't want to have to try and _imply_ feelings for, it was Nanase Haruka.

He'd opted for the subtle route first— _that_ had been a mistake—cutting Haru more leering glances that waxed into genuine smiles, poking and prodding with reminders about their shared future together, but most of the time he only received cutting glares in response or a snippy _I know_ I _plan on making the team; whether_ you _can manage it remains to be seen_. This tended to wash all thought of _make Haru understand your feelings_ from his mind, and quickly devolved into heated debates with retorts steadily escalating in volume. By the time they finished, Rin had entirely forgotten what he'd approached Haru to discuss in the first place.

Subtle, it seemed, was out—so he went for the more direct route and began offering gifts. A headset complete with an earpiece and mic for video chatting; an extra key to the Samezuka pool ("So you don't have to bug me with texts asking to be let in every other day this winter."); he'd even offered to pay for the first three months of English lessons if Haru agreed to take them, at which point Haru had just blown him off with a flippant, "Why would I need to know English? You can translate." Haru wasn't, it seemed, one for sentimentality or even practicality in most cases—so the gifts had been all but wasted on him.

 _Then_ he'd tried to enlist Sousuke's help, convinced two were better than one, and while Sousuke was far from Haru's biggest fan, he was Rin's best friend and seemed to understand that Rin needed Haru, in most every sense, and genuinely wanted Rin to be happy. "I guess I can help you ruin your life, for old time's sake," he'd offered with a roll of his eyes and shake of his head, before reminding Rin that lusting after a guy who kept magazines of famous waterfalls under his bed in lieu of porn didn't bode well for their future sex life. Rin had flushed red as a tomato and turned in early that evening, too ashamed to confess that he'd never considered having an actual _relationship_ with Haru. This was just something he needed to do—not an effort to actually _woo_ Haru in the hopes of starting a relationship. 

Sousuke had coordinated with the Iwatobi group while Rin fulfilled his final few months of captaining the team, helping to engineer group practices and freeing Rin from duties so that he might secure a few moments alone with Haru before or after races—but despite their valiant efforts, Rin somehow managed to keep undermining himself, distracted by Gou or cockblocked by Nagisa and Momo. As summer waned into fall and the third years had to abandon club activities to focus on studying for college entrance exams, opportunities for joint practices dwindled, until Makoto eventually had to start declining offers on the grounds that he and Haru needed to hit the books full-time. "He offered to help me study—you know I'm hopeless at it," Makoto had explained, expression rueful. "But I'm sure Rei and Nagisa would be thrilled at the opportunity to train with your team?"

Batted lashes, gifts of time in the Samezuka pool, failed attempts to speak in private— _nothing_ was working, and now, with less than a week left until he hailed a taxi for Tottori Airport, Rin was still stuck here, juggling his feelings all alone.

" _F-f-f-fuck_ it's cold out here..." he rasped to himself and rubbed his arms vigorously through his coat as he mounted the stone steps leading up to Haru's place. The others would already be in the receiving room, hopefully having saved Rin a space around the kotatsu and shelling edamame like they were going out of style. 

Makoto's text had been uncharacteristically terse—and last-minute, to boot—urging Rin to join him and the rest of Iwatobi for a final gathering at Haru's place before they all went their separate ways. He'd almost declined, still rushing about with final preparations for his big move—his bags weren't even packed yet, and how were you supposed to fit your life into two suitcases?—but realizing he might never again be able to spend time with these precious few people, gathered all together, he gave in. Romantic, indeed; he loved his friends and would miss them _fiercely_.

But it was still _freezing_. He bounced from one foot to the other after leaning on Haru's doorbell, trying to keep his core temperature from plunging downward, and broke into a relieved smile when Haru finally pulled the door open, dressed in surprisingly casual clothes considering he had company over. Rin hefted a box of pastries over his head. "I come bearing gifts for the party—from that new little bakery next to the station."

Haru blinked, silently glancing Rin over, and frowned at the box of pastries. "...Party?"

Rin peeked around him, wondering why he didn't hear Nagisa's peals of high-pitched raucous laughter—accompanied of course by Rei's scandalized cries. "Yeah—I figured it wasn't polite to show up empty-handed; are the others inside already?" He brushed past Haru, toeing off his shoes as he padded down the hall toward the den. "Don't tell me I'm the first? You better not expect me to help set up—Makoto's right next door and he can damn well..." He trailed off, frowning when he poked his head into the den and found it empty, save for a plate of oranges and a magazine atop the kotatsu. No tantalizing scents wafted in from the kitchen, and if Rin hadn't known better, he might have deemed the setting an otherwise normal, ordinary, nothing-special night in Haru's home. "...Where is everyone?"

"Who else would be here?" Haru's tone was taking on an edge of irritation now as he pushed Rin aside to head back into the den, plopping down on one of the floor pillows and snatching up the orange he'd apparently been halfway through before meeting Rin at the door. "And what party are you talking about?"

"The _party_ ," Rin reminded, a soft whine entering his voice, and he shoved his hand into his pocket to draw out his phone; had he gotten the date wrong? He scrolled through old text messages, brows lifting in triumph as he thrust his phone into Haru's face. "See? Haru's place, 8 PM. Clear as day."

Haru squinted, mouthing the words written on the screen to himself, then shook his head. "I have no idea what he's talking about."

Rin huffed, "What do you _mean_ you have no...idea..." He trailed off, pieces falling into place.

He'd been set up. Makoto, Goodie-two-shoes-san that he was, had actually pulled off something _conniving_ for once—leaving Rin, standing here like an ass in Haru's home, ready for a party that clearly had been nothing more than a front to lure Rin here. How Makoto had gotten involved in the whole affair was beyond him—he was sharper than Haru about things like that, but this smelled suspiciously like Sousuke's work. 

He sighed loudly, glancing down at the pastries. "...Well I just wasted 2000 yen I guess..."

Haru silently shifted to his feet, shuffling over to a stack of cushions in the corner and plopping one on the matting next to his own. "You're here now, you may as well at least stay for dinner."

Rin perked up, abandoning his silent scathing of Makoto and Sousuke—this was too much, too fast, and if he'd _wanted_ time alone with Haru, he could have arranged it at any point—and sniffed. "You're cooking something?"

"Leftovers," was the response, muffled by the kitchen walls as Haru began to root around in his fridge. "Mackerel miso."

Of course; but he was a guest now and so couldn't decline the offer without coming off impolite. After all, Haru hadn't been expecting company. "...Sounds great." He made no effort to disguise the lack of enthusiasm in his tone.

Haru puttered about in his kitchen for several long moments, leaving Rin to sit awkwardly alone in the den. If he'd wanted to, he could have joined Haru in the kitchen, even offered to help with the preparations, but the realization that the party had merely been a front to give the two of them some time alone had thrown him, leaving him scrambling to make even simple conversation.

At this rate, he was never going to get the stones to actually make it clear just where his feelings for Haru fell on the spectrum of friendship and romance—hell, he had a hard enough time admitting it to himself. Sitting here now in Haru's den, the both of them well aware that Makoto had for some reason arranged for Rin to be here with no further interruptions, made it achingly uncomfortable. His best hope was that he might be able to choke down Haru's fishy leftovers and make a quick, quiet exit, where he'd be free to lick his wounds back in his dorm and agonize over yet another failed attempt to get his feelings off his chest.

"Here. Tea." 

Rin ducked his head as Haru set a steaming cup of oolong before him. "Thanks."

Haru settled beside him, blowing gently over the surface of his own cup and sending tendrils of steam waving wildly, then closed his eyes in quiet contemplation of...what, Rin couldn't begin to guess. Maybe he was just taking a nap—clearly he wasn't going to start a conversation. Rin felt despair and irritation warring in his chest, and he longed for a trash can to kick over or row of lockers he might punch. Something he could physically destroy and maybe work out some of this pent-up tension. 

What if he never worked up the nerve? What if the right moment never presented itself, what if Haru was just too damn _thick_ to understand that there was a difference between what Nagisa and Rei and even Makoto felt for him and what Rin had been struggling with for what felt like the better part of his life? He hadn't understood in Australia, when Rin had been what he'd thought was an open book, so what could he do, short of mounting Haru and doing the sorts of things those waif-like slips did with one another in the manga Gou liked, to get it through to him?

What if next week came and they were still _this_ , still...just close friends, rivals, who maybe e-mailed once every few months to update the other on their training progress, but never really corresponded otherwise? Makoto could drop by Haru's apartment whenever he liked; Nagisa and Rei could pool together funds for a trip to Tokyo if they wanted without breaking the bank. But Rin was going to the other side of the planet—and he didn't regret it. He _didn't_. He just...wanted Haru to understand _why_ he didn't regret it. Why he wanted to train there, to learn to be the best _Rin_ he could ever be. What sight he'd be seeing now, every time he dove into that ever-blue beyond.

No. No, he couldn't let that happen, he _needed_ to get this out. He swallowed, wishing he'd asked for a glass of water. "Haru—"

"I never—"

They both glanced up, mouths snapping shut in mortified silence after realizing they'd spoken at the same time. Rin was the first to recover, chuckling with chagrin and glancing off to the side. "Sorry—you can go first."

"It's not a big deal—"

"No seriously, you go—I'm..." He shook his head, loath to explain himself until he was really ready to commit; he would put this off for as long as possible. "What were you gonna say?"

Haru's expression shifted into something almost annoyed—rather close to his default, Rin thought—before he glanced back down at his teacup and traced the rim for a few beats, seeming to gather his thoughts. Rin wondered, when he dithered for nearly a minute, if he'd decided the effort too great and abandoned the idea entirely, before Haru finally spoke up again: "...You leave next Saturday."

"Yup. Getting up at the ass crack of dawn and won't see a proper bed again for something like thirty hours..." He grimaced; he knew roughly what to expect, having made this trip a few times before now, but that sure as hell didn't make it any less of a chore. "Why couldn't the best training facilities in this hemisphere be in Seoul or something, huh?"

"Tokyo has nice facilities," Haru reminded, speaking into the lip of his cup as he took a sip, and Rin had to stifle a snort at this—in his own awkward way, Haru was trying to explain that he would miss Rin, and that wasn't a terrible feeling.

"Yeah it does; but Tokyo is kinda like training wheels—and I need a big-boy bike, personally." He poked Haru in the shoulder. "So you get up there, find your balance, and when you're ready to ride without a safety net...I'll be waiting."

Haru glanced up at him over the rim of his cup, studying his face, then carefully set the cup down on its coaster, licking his lips as if steeling himself.

"...I never properly thanked you. For Australia."

Rin straightened, a wary sense of foreboding washing over him. "...What're you talking about? You don't need to thank me for that—hell, it's not like I paid for your ticket, even." He tried to keep his tone light, but Haru just shook his head, pursing his lips.

"I don't—mean like that. I mean..." He rubbed at his neck, clearly uncomfortable being so talkative. "I'm about to go to Tokyo; I've signed my rental agreement already, and I'll be shipping most of my belongings up over winter break. My room's nothing but cardboard boxes right now." He nodded toward the staircase. "And I realized that none of this—not the Tokyo apartment, not our Nationals race, not my...my dream...would've happened without you."

Rin felt his face start to flush— _crap_ this wasn't what he needed, Haru losing it, getting all sentimental like this. _Haru_ breaking down would make _him_ break down, and he'd wind up a blubbering mess and probably confess some things best left under wraps, for Haru to slowly uncover in due time. "That's—come on, you're being dramatic..."

"I'm _not_ ," Haru snapped, serious. "It wouldn't. I know—because I know _me_. I wouldn't have joined any team; I never _wanted_ to—I probably would've just stopped altogether after the swim club closed down."

Rin forced a smile. "But—you're a water freak, of _course_ you'd be swimming—"

"Maybe—but I wouldn't be _a swimmer_. It's not the same."

The smile faded, because Haru was right: it _wasn't_ the same. Rin jogged from time to time during road work, but he wasn't a _runner_ , and pumping some iron in the weight room didn't make him a weight lifter. The idea that a future was even _possible_ in which Nanase Haruka wasn't a _swimmer_ , though? Shook him, to the core. "You...you're meant to do this kind of thing, though; it would've happened, one way or another, you would've—"

Haru just shook his head more fiercely, and Rin could practically _feel_ his irritation mounting, as if Rin were _actively_ trying to misunderstand him. He locked eyes with Rin, willing him to understand. "I _wouldn't_. I would've sat there and waited until I became ordinary, and I would've told myself I was happy—but you didn't let me do that. You found me—and you showed me different. And...and like I said: I don't think I ever really thanked you. For bringing me here. For...giving this to me. Doing this _with_ me. I'm not even sure there _is_ a way to thank you..."

Rin tried to swallow the lump lodged in his throat, his cheeks and neck flushed and hot—it had to have taken a hell of a lot for Haru to work himself up like this, to _confess_ this, because the guy just wasn't one for being so expressive. But he'd managed it, and the sheer effort—all for Rin—was honestly overwhelming. He covered his eyes with one hand, hunching his shoulders and glancing off to the side—that was some fine tatami matting; maybe he'd stare at that a while. "Well—I mean, it...you know it was really entirely self-serving. I'm selfish, you know that—it just...seemed like such a waste. Someone like you, never stepping foot outside this little podunk town. Besides—" He shrugged, as if it meant nothing to him. "It's the same for me—I never would've made it this far without you—and the others. So...we're even." He dared a quick glance over at Haru—but found him frowning again, like this didn't sit well, and Rin felt amusement bubbling inside. Leave it to Haru to feel _competitive_ when expressing gratitude. "What? You're not the only one who feels like he needs to express his thanks to the other here. I'm serious—you...you mean a lot to me, and I'm glad you'll—"

Haru interrupted him with a disgusted huff, snapping both hands out to grab Rin by the collar of his gakuran and jerking him forward. Rin's arms pinwheeled as he fought against toppling into Haru's arms—but his momentum was stalled when Haru held fast and covered Rin's lips with his own, tightening his grip to keep Rin from scrambling back. Rin inhaled sharply, shock stealing his breath, and brought his fingers up to wrap around Haru's wrists, holding on for what felt like dear life. Before he could so much as consider how to respond to the kiss, though, Haru was shoving him away and muttering, "...For a romantic idiot, you can be really oblivious."

"What...what the hell was..." he babbled, largely rhetorically—because _what the hell was that_? Not a kiss—that much was clear; no, Haru had just grabbed his collar, perhaps thinking to wring his neck for reasons unknown, and he'd stumbled into Haru's lips. Sure, that sounded plausible. A hell of a lot more plausible than _Nanase Haruka dragging him in for a kiss_ at least. Had he seen through Rin? Was this just _teasing_? No—Haru didn't tease, that wasn't _him_. Maybe it had been an accident after all, then?

So caught up was he in the whirring inner-workings of his own mind, though, that he almost missed Haru continuing, "—didn't know what else to do to get through to you."

"Huh?" He winced inwardly at the blank confusion in his voice; he sounded ridiculous—and the way Haru's lips pursed in annoyance told him Haru thought the same.

He crossed his arms. "..Have Makoto explain it to you, if you can't figure it out yourself."

Makoto? What the hell did Makoto have to do with...

Rin slumped backward, flopping down on the tatami matting and staring up at the ceiling. "...There never was a party, was there?"

"No." Of course there hadn't been; Haru had been too nonchalant about Rin showing up on his doorstep with an invitation to a party Haru ostensibly knew nothing about.

"And Makoto..."

Haru shifted to his feet, cutting short the conversation—which meant he didn't want to talk about roping his best friend into whatever had just happened. Which further meant _something_ had just happened. Haru had kissed him—and called _him_ oblivious. The nerve!

"It's late."

Rin blinked, shading his eyes against the light hanging overhead to make out Haru, who now stood at the threshold to the kitchen. It wasn't _that_ late, really—but Rin supposed this was his invitation to leave now. "...Yeah, I should probably—"

"You'll miss curfew; you may as well stay the night." Haru then disappeared around the corner back into the kitchen—Rin could smell the leftovers finally coming to temperature.

He sat up, head still reeling from the whiplash—a kiss, something that must have been some manner of confession, dinner (of sorts), and now...a sleepover? Had Haru been sipping the pool water again? "I—you don't mind?" He scrambled to his feet, rounding the divider just in time to see Haru shrug his indifference.

"You had something to say too, didn't you?"

"I..." He swallowed, nodding—before realizing Haru couldn't see him. "Yeah, I did."

Haru ladled some broth over a mackerel steak, glancing back at Rin out of the corner of one eye: "I know."


End file.
